CC:R4 Lost in the Dark P.7

Chernobyl-Curs
Lost in the Dark

Round 4: Part 7



My teeth snapped into a soft clump of fur. I could hear every hair being yanked away from flesh as both our bodies pulled away. I immediately spat the mess from my mouth and whipped back around to attack again. Jet knew better and dodged out of the way, carrying himself across the street, out of harm's way. I pursued him, refusing to let him get away again.

"See, if we had made rules I would have called this cheating!" Jet exclaimed, almost comically. Was he seriously trying to make this situation light-hearted?

Not letting his words get to me, I jumped toward him once more, my paws making contact with his side. He flew sideways and rammed into the wall of the nearest building. He then began to squirm to free himself. I could feel his ribs beneath my toes: they still had meat clinging to them. He wasn't starving, that was for sure.

Not accustomed to standing in such a position, I quickly lost my grip and Jet slipped out from under me. He sprinted a few paces ahead before kneeling down in preparation to run. Instead he stood in place, eying me intensely. I swore I saw a smirk trying to pull its way across his lips.

"What's with the bloody getup anyway? Were you trying to scare me?" he let out a chuckle, "I'm not afraid of bears. I've dealt with plenty of them at the circus. They tend to be a good deal less frightening when they wear little pink tutus while riding tricycles."

This time it was he who took the next attack. He burst toward me on strong legs and leapt high into the air. He landed square on my back, his weight sending me falling to the ground. As I hit the hard concrete, he gracefully bounded off. I scrambled to my paws, not giving him a chance to take control of my weakness. To my surprise, when I turned to face him he was taking off down the sidewalk. He veered to his left and entered an opening to a building.     

Damnit, Jet! What's with you and buildings?

I tore after him. Despite Stan's warning that fighting in a human den would dwindle my chances, I couldn't let him get away. I had to take the chance. With tongue already flailing from my mouth, I followed him inside the den.

Instantly I was consumed with darkness; not a single window was available for light to break through. I squinted my eyes, trying to force them to adjust to the even darker surroundings. I could make out a few stray obstacles littered on the floor, but otherwise there seemed to be no sign of a living creature. I tried to catch his scent and follow a trail, but all I could smell was the stale blood on my coat.

Releasing an aggravated growl, I pushed through the debris and into an open area of the room. A four-legged, flat-topped object sat nearby, the sitting objects called "chairs" lined around it, a couple of which were tipped over. I didn't see the glowing eye peaking out between them before it was too late.

My opponent's dark form pounced through his hiding spot and slammed into me again. I managed to control my balance this time and kept myself standing. I snarled and snapped at his direction. Almost directly afterward, a hard object whacked my snout. The piercing pain that erupted forced a loud whine to escape my throat and I stumbled back. What was that?

Jet ran into me again, another hard smack landing on the side of my face. Again I released a whimper, but this time it followed with a louder snarl and another snap. I grazed one of his floppy ears, feeling a small, hard item snag on my tooth. Jet released a short cry of his own. He raised a paw to his ear and wiped at it, trying to relieve the stinging. A tiny item fell to the ground, making a quiet ting as it hit. A sliver of shiny light reflected from a small, bloody circle.

Ignoring it, I shoved against him, nearly knocking him to the floor. He jumped up onto his hind legs before I could make another move. He pulled his head back and swiftly jerked it down onto me, resulting in a hard hit to my skull. What the hell was he doing?!

I pushed myself up onto my own back feet, jaws wide. I clamped my teeth down; a hard, wood-like texture entered my mouth. I yanked it downward, bringing us both to our fours. Both of us bit down into what looked like a leg from the chair. A weapon. A game of tugging ensued, each of us pulling back, trying to pry the item free from the other. My jaw strength overpowered his and it tore from his grip.

Defenseless, Jet turned and bolted into the depths of the building again. I dropped the object and chased after him, my lungs burning and head pounding.

My frustration at the fleeing dog wore on my nerves. Part of me wished we could have instigated some rules after all. The first being no buildings and no running. My strength already felt depleted from the exertion. I was weak enough as it was. How could I chase after this mutt and fight him at the same time?

Then an idea struck me.

I skidded to a stop before the light of a broken window. Small flecks of dust fluttered around in the pale beams. I allowed myself to pant a few more times before swallowing hard and facing the darkness Jet had escaped through.

"Stop being a coward. Come out."

There was no reply.

"You don't know this city. I barely even know it anymore."

Still silence.

"You don't even know what it's like to starve."

The skittering of claws on the floor finally gave me an answer. "I do know what it's like."

"No you don't," I said, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, "Humans don't let dogs starve."

A quiet growl filtered out from the darkness. "That's a load of bull. Maybe you had good owners, but not everyone is so lucky."

"Did your owners feed you?"

He didn't say anything.

Feeling the tension in the small room growing thicker, I repeated my previous accusation. "You don't know what it's like to starve."

A rage-filled growl erupted into the thin air and Jet's form came rushing out. He slammed into my chest, knocking my breath straight out of me. I was forced to the ground, his black paws digging into my blood-stained coat. The snarl plastered across his face seemed so alien in comparison to the smile that I had typically seen adorned to it.

"You don't know anything about me!" he bared his fangs in my face, "I knew everything there was about starving in the streets! Sifting through the trash heaps for the junk people threw away, only to have it taken away! I was lucky to find a damn crumb left over!"

My snout tensed up, a snarl of my own trying to form onto my snout. I had to keep it down as I asked the first question that entered my mind, "Then why did you give up your life to come back to it?"

There it was: the uncertain pause. The moment when he tried to find the words that were hidden somewhere in the back of his mind. It was just what I was looking for.

Teeth exposed, I lurched up, feeling fur and flesh under my grip. Startled, he jumped back, releasing a cry. Unlike before, he couldn't escape this time. My grip remained strong on the base of his throat, my teeth plunging into his soft skin. His own jaws tried to pry open and snap in defense, but there was nothing for him to grab onto. He defended with his paws instead, scraping his studded claws across my skin.

I managed to pull myself to my feet, still keeping my mouth clamped onto him. He struggled with all his might, fighting against me with the strength of a fearful animal. An animal afraid to die. A trickle of blood slipped down his thick-furred neck. The more he tried to pull away, the thicker the stream became. Soon it felt like rivers were pouring across my teeth.

But he didn't stop. He pushed against me, trying to shove me into the corner of the wall where another collection of human items remained. I didn't bother trying to fight to push him back: I had to keep my grip. I had to focus my strength.

I was pushed into the objects, their hard edges scraping against my tensed muscles. Still I wouldn't let go.

I couldn't let go.

His desperate cries of pain began to melt into frightened gasps as my grip tightened. His throat denied the entrance of air. The blood that began to pool within it dripped down and choked him. The gasps slowly morphed into raspy gurgles. His nostrils flared to take in the oxygen he so desperately needed. The air that would give no mercy.

I still couldn't let go.

His strength began to dwindle until he couldn't hold himself up anymore. He fell to the ground, legs kicking wildly in his attempts to fight back. They became weak and feeble, unable to so-much as scrape the fur from my hide. The bubbling in his throat intensified and soon blood spurted from his mouth as he gasped again.

My own legs trembled beneath me. I felt my head grow light and my heart was throbbing against my ribs. The blood that clotted in Jet's thick fur pressed into my nose. It filled my mouth and dripped down. I had to fight to keep it from slipping into my own windpipe.

My mind began to draw to a blank at that moment. All that I focused on was keeping my jaws tight. To ignore the pain. To pretend the dog held in my grip wasn't real.

He wasn't real.

He wasn't dying.

I wasn't a murderer.

I was surviving.

I barely even heard the quiet stirring of paws on the floor just a room away.  The innocent voices conversing as they strode down the hall. The gasps that followed when they entered the room. The silence that engulfed everything.

"… J-Jet?"





Don't let go until they stop moving.